


The Astute Observations of Professor I. Robinson

by Mixed_Up_Crazy



Series: From the Desk of Professor I. Robinson [1]
Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Crushes, F/M, No Romance, also crushes, also cursing, but yes there are bad words in this, mentions of omc, not much though, what am I five?, yet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-11
Updated: 2013-11-15
Packaged: 2017-11-11 23:09:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/483918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mixed_Up_Crazy/pseuds/Mixed_Up_Crazy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mythology professor, meet Reality. Where the reality is the existence of superheroes, mythological beings, and being kidnapped by a shady government organization.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kidnapped

The first thing Illayana noticed when she gained consciousness (awoke wasn’t exactly the right term), even before she opened her eyes, was that she was definitely _not_ in her bed.  However, she couldn’t think of where else she could be.  There was no crick in her neck to indicate that she’d fallen asleep on the couch or at her desk as she sometimes did, but there was nowhere else she could have nodded off if she wasn’t in the comfort of her own home.

                Her heart sped up at this realization.  She was terrified.  Where was she?  Why wasn’t she at home?

                Slowly, cautiously, Illayana opened her eyes.  Sitting up, she observed that she was in a small bed in a room that consisted entirely of white and gray.  There was a small night table, and a small chest of drawers – everything about the room seemed small.  She’d never been claustrophobic, but the utter _smallness_ of everything was making her feel sick.

                It was all neat and tidy, excluding the crumpled sheets of the bed, making her feel even more out of place – Illayana was notoriously (to those who knew her) disorganized.  That was part of the reason she worked so well with mythology.  She was a professor of it at the local community college.  There was no part of mythology that was at all very organized.  Time lines and characters were often mixed up, and there were likely a million and one different versions of the same legend.  They shared a wonderful bond of disorganized order (as opposed to organized Chaos, she supposed) and that was just how she liked it.

                However, for all her disorganized order and knowledge of mythology, she could not figure out why someone would go through all the trouble – or maybe it wasn’t that much trouble at all, she thought fearfully – to _kidnap_ her.  She was a professor of mythology at a small college, she didn’t have any big connections, she hadn’t done anything particularly noticeable in her life.  _Where was she?_

Illayana’s breath hitched as she realized that there was no _door._   She tried to take a deep breath, to stave off the oncoming panic attack, but it was impossible.  Gasping desperately, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and placed her head between her knees.  Illayana almost didn’t notice the footsteps, or the _whoosh_ of a door like one in a science fiction movie, or the hand that started rubbing her back.

                “It’s okay,” a somewhat familiar voice soothed.  She hadn’t heard that voice in years.

                “Phil?” Illayana asked, struggling for her breath.  She looked up to see the man himself nodding, his face neutral but smiling slightly.  He was wearing a suit and a badge that had a blocky eagle insignia stamped onto it and the letters S.H.I.E.L.D.

                “Illayana Robinson.  It’s been a while.”

                “A long while,” she agreed, finally catching her breath.  “But on to the more pressing problem . . . where _am_ I?”

                So Illayana learned about SHIELD and its workings.  And that Phil was a secret agent (although those weren’t his exact words . . . not by a long shot).

                “ _Why_?  I’m not a superhero.  I’m a _professor._ Of _mythology._ Why could you possibly want me here?”

                “We are attempting to bring in the best of the best.  Given your connections to a Doctor Bruce Banner-“

                “Bruce!” she yelped.  “You leave him out of this!  He left for a reason.”

                “I’m afraid that it is necessary for the survival of mankind, Illayana,” Phil said dryly.

                “ _Survival of_ . . . what?!   What is going on here that you’re not telling me?”

                Well, wasn’t this just a stressful day.  By the end of Phil’s explanation, including should-be-long-dead supersoldiers, gods out of Norse mythology (though that was more her area of expertise), and a stolen cube of enormous power, Illayana wasn’t sure whether she was getting a migraine or another panic attack.  Maybe both.  What did this have to do with Bruce?

                “We’re bringing Doctor Banner in to help look for the Cube.  We thought that he may be more comfortable with an old friend on board.”

                “You mean you thought you could use me as leverage,” Illayana corrected, feeling the rage bubbling inside her.  “A bribe of sorts.  How could you, Phil?”

                “It wasn’t my idea,” he admitted, “but I didn’t know until you got here.  They should be arriving within a few hours, and someone will be along to take you to the lab to meet him.”  Then he stood.

                “Wait wait wait, where are you going?” Illayana scrambled to stand too, as Phil walked over to a blank patch of wall that _whoosh_ ed open – well that explained the no-door-problem – and walked through it.  It shut behind him, just as she rushed over, and she slumped against the wall.  Illayana looked around the small room and sighed, squeezing her eyes shut.  “At least I get to see Bruce again,” she murmured to herself, and while that lifted her spirits slightly, it didn’t really make anything about this better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the first chapter! I'm hoping to post once a week, maybe every two. Should be Saturdays for sure . . . hopefully.


	2. Reminiscing and Seeing Him Again

True to Phil’s word, another suit showed up later on.  Illayana couldn’t tell how much later on – there wasn’t a clock in the room and she didn’t have a watch – but it must have been a long time.  Her vision had long gone fuzzy from alternating between staring at the wall and the inside of her eyelids.  She had already inspected the chest of drawers, but had decided, out of spite, that there was no way in _hell_ she was wearing whatever clothing was in there.  She was just fine in her own clothes, even if they were wrinkled.  There was also a pair of shoes underneath the bed, and they had taken the purple pumps she wore to work, “so barefoot it is!”

                The suit offered no name, just beckoned her to follow, and she, albeit reluctantly, did.  Anything to get out of that awful room.  The rest of – wherever they were – wasn’t all that much better, though.  The hallways were small, and entirely gray, both lighter and darker shades.  The lab _was_ better, though it was still all white. 

Illayana ran her hand across the equipment, much of which was way beyond anything she’d ever seen, and felt a breath of nostalgia brush over her.  Bruce would be in his element here, she knew.  He was always so damn smart, and she used to feel a little useless, worthless, in comparison – though that was something she felt often, back then, and sometimes even without reason.

But, Illayana supposed, sitting on a stool and bringing her knees to her chest in a way that had her bare heels precariously perched on the edge, she would be seeing him soon.  After the Hulk, after he inadvertently caused all that damage, he’d run away.  He’d hadn’t even said goodbye, or left any way to contact him.  He hadn’t written to anyone, either, even (or maybe especially?) _Betty_.

Illayana felt a little sick thinking about Betty.  After all, it was General Thaddeus Ross, Betty’s father, who constantly hunted down her friend.  It wasn’t exactly Betty’s fault, but she found herself distrusting of the woman, and even felt a sort of vindictive pleasure when she found that Bruce hadn’t contacted her either.

A little guilt wormed its way through her about that, but she pushed it away.  Betty hadn’t even spoken to her more than a handful of times, even when Bruce was still around to be the bridge between the two.  As Betty’s lover and Illayana’s friend, Bruce had often tried to find some common ground between them, wanting them to get along.

Even before the Hulk came about, though, Illayana hadn’t particularly liked Betty.  Maybe because it was somehow Betty’s fault that Illayana had stopped seeing Bruce as much, after they started getting closer.  Maybe because ( _no, stop it, Illayana, don’t do this to yourself_ ) Illayana had had something of a crush on Bruce herself.

Illayana hated thinking about that, though.  She had never known if her feelings other than friendship for the man were a sort of hero worship or _real_.  They had been friends, but the closer bond and subsequent crush hadn’t developed until _after_ he saved her, convinced her that life was worth living.  She almost hated herself for it, the not knowing.

But she hadn’t hated herself, really, truly hated herself, in a long time.

Illayana hid her face in her knees and waited.  She didn’t look up when they took off (almost panicking again, because she hadn’t been told they were on a _giant fucking aircraft_ ), she didn’t look up when the door _whoosh_ ed open again, but she did look up at the disbelieving cry of “Illayana?!”

Her head shot up and her legs dropped down, and she almost fell in her haste to get over to her old friend.  “Bruce!”  He caught her upper arm to keep her steady, inspecting her.  Illayana ducked her head, feeling somewhat self-conscious.  Her dark hair was tangled, white cami un-tucked from her rumpled gray pencil skirt, her navy button-down wrinkled, and she was barefoot.  _So very appealing,_ she thought to herself self-deprecatingly.

His face was hard, and he looked like he wanted to say something, but Illayana couldn’t help herself.  She lunged forward and hugged him tightly, ignoring the way her nose knocked painfully against his chest.  Bruce stiffened, but she squeezed harder and he relaxed the slightest bit, allowing one arm to loop loosely around her waist while the other hand came up to her head.  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

                She opened her mouth to answer, but somebody else beat her to it.  “We thought you might be more willing to work with us if you saw a familiar face,” said a voice.  Illayana looked up to see a woman with short red hair and a black catsuit standing off to the side, her expression just as neutral – if not more – than Phil’s had been.  She hid herself behind Bruce, trembling slightly.  Neutral or not, the air this woman gave off indicated she could kill Illayana in a second.  Considering that she worked for the people that kidnapped her, it was very likely.  “Someone you trust.”

                “You – so you,” Bruce forced out, beginning to shake, “you _kidnapped_ a _civilian_?  You – you…”  He couldn’t even continue, words out of reach, his head bowed.   Illayana saw the signs of rage and reached out to hold his face in her hands.

“Hey, hey,” she soothed, standing on her tiptoes and resting her forehead against his.  “Calm down.  I’m here now, you can’t change that.  You’re good, okay?   You’re good.”

                Bruce took a deep, steadying breath.  Another.  “That’s it.  You’re going to be fine.”

                “I can see you’re already making yourself useful, Miss Robinson,” said the woman.  Bruce’s shoulders stiffened, and again opened his mouth.

                “It’s _Professor Robinson_ ,” Illayana snapped before he could say anything, turning around tautly.  “And I’d kindly thank you to take your leave.”  The woman nodded, and walked out, looking relaxed and for all the world as if she hadn’t just almost driven Bruce to unleashing the Hulk, unintentionally or not.

                “And _you_ ,” she started, rounding on Bruce, “I’d like to know where you’ve been all this time.  You left without saying goodbye!”  At the stricken, guilty look on his face, she softened.  “Alright.  Alright.  I’m sorry.  Just – I missed you.”

                There it was, that little flare of happiness, at knowing that he was here, he was real.  He smiled weakly at her, sending her pulse flying, and started his work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it weird that I was counting down the days until today so I could post the next chapter? Yes? No?


	3. In Need of Coffee

For some amount of time, all Illayana did was sit there and watch Bruce work. _I guess it's not exactly a great time to catch up, huh_ , she mused to herself, _what with the world being in danger and all._ It was sort of soothing, though. She hadn't seen Bruce in years, and back before the Hulk she'd often spent time observing him. It was interesting, even if science was far from her best subject.

Though the technology was much beyond what they'd had when she and Bruce had last seen each other, it was just like old times. The nostalgia fluttered over her again.

"What about the college?" Bruce asked after some indefinite amount of time. Illayana started from the abrupt break in the silence, which up until then had only been filled by the tapping of his fingers against the screen and both of their soft breathing, then flushed. She felt like an idiot for not thinking of that before. There was plenty of time to ask about the story for her absence, yet instead she spent the whole time reminiscing about her friendship with the man she knew she would see!

Quickly, Illayana arranged her face into a mask of bravado and waved her hand. "What's the worst they can do, fire me? I'm sure, being a government operation, SHIELD has covered their tracks." Seeing the tightening around his eyes, she hastily backtracked. "I mean, I'm sure they have an excuse for my absence. So I won't have to go job-hunting anytime soon. But what are we talking about me for? You have work to do."

She didn't mention the painful fact that after this work was finished, they would go back to their lives and she, by no choice of her own, would most likely never see him again.

And there she went, reminiscing again. Was that brought on by the return of one of her best friends and possible crush, or was that just a bad habit of hers? She didn't know. Oh, how she hated not knowing some of the most important things about herself. Or was this important?

What she wouldn't do for a coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, sorry this is late! I was in New York on Saturday, and I have a ton of summer homework I keep putting off. Bleargh.


	4. Chapter 4

After that, the silence was too much to bear.  Illayana did whatever she could to help, copying down equations that Bruce listed off and typing them into different machines, bringing him different gadgets he requested, and above all, keeping up a steady stream of meaningless chatter as she bustled about.  Bruce gave her a few somewhat-amused smiles as she rambled nervously, which, although she would never admit it, made her swoon internally.

The floor was cold against her bare feet, and that was what kept her alert as she fought the drooping of her eyelids.  Illayana tugged forcefully on her bangs and forced herself to think of everything she knew about the situation, trying to come up with ways that, as a professor in a subject that at this time was too close to reality for comfort, she could do more.  She had to admit that, as far as she knew, the Tesseract (and even its other, more mysterious-sounding name, the Cosmic Cube) didn’t exist in any legend she had ever heard.  Not even the slightest mention.

However, tales of the gods Thor and Loki were not few.  Illayana wondered how many of such tales were true, and how many just the children of wild imaginations.

She was just starting to doodle tiny hammers and snakes biting their own tails on the blank papers she had commandeered for herself from who-knows-where (it seemed the aircraft ran almost entirely on electronics – there was hardly any real paper at all, let alone a pen) when footsteps began to echo down the hallway outside the lab.  Her brows furrowed, fingers trembled and began sketching of their own accord, as if they had a mind of their own.  She couldn’t stop.  A face, features elegant and refined, uplifted in a haughty, ‘I’m better than you’ expression, formed underneath her pen.  The eyes were sharp and icy, the entire picture unlike anything she’d ever drawn before.

Illayana was no artist; far from it.  So this, this was scary, this was surreal, this was . . . _otherworldly_.  As soon as the (very eerily detailed) drawing was finished, her grip on the pen slackened and she dropped it, pushing herself away with horror.  She stumbled and fell, scrambling back, Bruce watching her in confusion and alarm.  The footsteps grew louder, and a platoon of SHIELD agents, heavily armored and decked out in weapons, passed.

The world moved in slow motion.  In the center of the group was the man from the picture.  Wearing black and green, his ebony hair slicked back, accentuating his angular face, he walked at a leisurely pace, unhurried by the hard-eyed guards around him.  He smiled pleasantly at Bruce, who took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose to keep calm.  _He looks like he_ wants _to be here,_ Illayana thought, nausea rising in the pit of her stomach.

This was Loki.  This was the god from legend.  This was the man who wanted to bring the world to its knees.

This was a man who _could_ bring the world to its knees.

She rose, scared witless, and hid behind Bruce until the group, Loki in particular, was out of sight, and the footsteps long gone.  Bruce turned, looked at her, and gathered her into his arms.  “It’s okay, you’re okay.  What happened?” he asked, indicating the moments before the agents and their charge came into view.  Illayana shook her head—

\--and pointed a shaky finger at the picture that sat, seemingly innocent, on the table she’d been sitting at.


	5. The Meeting and Another Arrival

Bruce was called for a meeting about Loki and Illayana insisted on coming – not that he would have left her alone in this place – but she refused to touch the paper.  Even the pen was shunned.  At the bridge, where the meeting was taking place, Illayana curled into a chair, quivering like a leaf in the wind.  Bruce placed the picture on the table and rested his hands on the back of her chair. 

One seat separated Illayana and the red-haired woman from earlier, and three seats the other way was a large blonde man she dimly recognized as Captain America from the old newsreels teachers show their history classes.  Phil and another large blonde man in a red cape and armor were speaking quietly over a computer screen.  Half-sick and half-relieved, Illayana realized that this must be Thor.  Captain America was looking at her curiously, but she stared down at her hands.

There were screens on the table, depicting a giant glass prison which housed Loki (Illayana weakly repressed a shudder) and a control panel with a dark-skinned man in an eyepatch.  Phil left, and they watched the conversation between the two.

 _“You see how this works?  Ant,”_ the man gestured to Loki, then to the control panel, “ _boot.”_

" _It's an impressive cage. Not built, I think, for me._ "

" _Built for something much stronger than you._ "

" _Oh, I've heard. A mindless beast; makes play he's still a man._ "

Terror or not, Illayana narrowed her eyes at the screen and reached up where Bruce’s arm was resting.  She touched it gently, trying to reassure herself that he was there.  _Not a mindless beast,_ she thought viciously.  And she would know, having met the Hulk at one point – although an argument could be made that she had calmed him down slightly before attempting any type of conversation.  He wasn’t mindless, but the Hulk had the mentality of a very large, very angry four-year-old.

 _"Ooh…it burns you, to have come so close,"_ Loki taunted, _"To have the Tesseract; to have power – unlimited power…and for what? A warm light for all mankind to share?"_

He turned toward the camera with a smirk.  “ _And then to be reminded what real power is.”_

 _“Well, let me know if ‘real power’ wants a magazine or something,”_ the man shot back, before sweeping away.

“He really grows on you, doesn’t he?” Bruce said sarcastically, drawing a faint smile from Illayana, who wrapped her arms around herself.  _Like mold,_ she thought, remembering the malice in his gaze.  It hadn’t even been directed at her, and yet she was shivering.

“Loki’s going to drag this out,” Captain America said.  “So, Thor . . . what’s his play?”

“He has an army, called the Chitauri,” the god of thunder reported gravely.  “They're not of Asgard, nor of any world known. He means to lead them against your people. They will win him the earth…in return, I suspect, for the Tesseract."

“An army.  From outer space,” the Captain deadpanned incredulously.  Illayana found herself thinking the same thing.  When had her life turned into a movie?

“So, a portal,” Bruce said.  “The energy from the Tesseract could be used to create a portal.  That would explain why he needed Erik Selvig.”

“Selvig?” Thor asked, standing a little straighter.

“He’s an astrophysicist,” Bruce supplied.

“He’s a friend.”

“Loki has him under some kind of spell,” the woman informed him, adding a somewhat regretful, “along with one of our own.”

“I want to know why Loki let us take him,” Captain America said.  “He’s not exactly able to lead an army from here.”

“I don’t think we should be focusing on Loki,” Bruce piped up, shaking his head, “the guy’s a bag of cats; you can _smell_ the crazy on him.”

“Have a care how you speak,” Thor said frostily.  “Loki is beyond reason, but he is of Asgard.  And he is my brother.”

“He killed eighty people in two days,” the woman stated bluntly, face still blank.  Illayana felt the breath go out of her.  _Eighty people, gone_ , she thought, _because of one man._

Thor paused for a second.  “…he’s adopted.”

Illayana twitched.  Violently.  “My friend’s adopted,” she said, forcing an airy tone.  “She found out when she was fifteen.  Got very angry, even ran away for a few days.  But she went back when she realized that they were still her parents, and they loved her just as much as her siblings.  If she had done something against the law, say, steal a knife and try to mug some random person, would that be an excuse for what she did?”

Thor opened his mouth, then closed it.  “Norse mythology tells us that Loki is the god of mischief and lies.  While they may not be entirely accurate – hell I didn’t know there was any accuracy until today – we have no reason as of yet to doubt them.   According to what we know about the real Loki, he relies on his words and his sorcery, and, more recently, that scepter.  So we can assume that Loki is powerful, and therefore he shouldn’t be easy to capture.  But you hardly have a scratch between the two of you.”

There was a pause, and then Bruce repeated, pacing, “I don’t think we should be focusing on him.  He was Stuttgart for a reason – the Iridium. What does he need the Iridium for?”

“It’s a stabilizing agent.”

The new voice came from a doorway to the right.  It was a somewhat familiar man with dark hair, wearing a blazer and a Black Sabbath t-shirt.  There was a curious circle of glowing blue underneath the shirt, and that was what drove the recognition home: this was Tony Stark.  He said one last thing under his breath to Phil, who was followed by another woman, this one brunette, before continuing on into the room.

“With the Iridium, the portal won’t collapse in on itself like it did at SHIELD.  No hard feelings, Point Break, you got a mean swing,” he added, patting Thor’s massive upper arm as he passed, sparing him a quick glance.  “It also means the portal can open as wide, and stay open as long, as Loki wants."

Tony swaggered over to the helm and stopped in front of it.  There was a moment of silence.  “That man is playing galaga!  Thought we wouldn’t notice, but we did.”  Still quiet.  He jerked his head around, then put a hand over one eye and repeated the motion.  “How does Fury see these things?” he asked.  Illayana wasn’t entirely certain he wasn’t serious.

“He turns,” the brunette said dryly.

“Sounds exhausting,” Tony replied.  He swiped his fingers over the screens, changing and moving things around with confidence.  She wasn’t sure if he was allowed to, but this _was_ Tony Stark.   He didn’t exactly play by the rules.

“The rest of the raw materials," he continued, "Agent Barton can get his hands on pretty easily. The only major component he still needs is a power source of high energy density.  Something to . . . kick-start the Cube."   Illayana thought she saw his touch linger unnecessarily on the bottom of one of the screens, but pushed it away.  _I must be getting paranoid._

"When did _you_ become an expert in thermo-nuclear astrophysics?" asked the brunette agent.

“Last night,” Tony responded with a smile.  The brunette raised an eyebrow.

"The packet," he elaborated, "Selvig's notes. The extraction theory papers. Am I the only one who did the reading?"

"Does Loki need any particular kind of power source?" the Captain asked, looking to Tony.

 “He'd have to heat the cube to 120 million Kelvin just to break through the cooling barrier,” Bruce said, stopping behind Illayana’s chair again.

“Unless Selvig has figured out how to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect," Tony pointed out, turning to face the other genius in the room. 

"Well, if he could so that, he could achieve heavy ion fusion to any reactor on the planet."

“"Finally! Someone who speaks English!" Tony exclaimed, crossing the distance between them.  He held out his hand, ignoring the Captain’s muttered, _Is that what just happened?_   “Pleasure to meet you, Dr. Banner. Your work on anti-electronic collisions is unparalleled…”

Illayana smiled encouragingly at Bruce, who hesitated, then took the billionaire’s hand.

“…and I’m also a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous green rage monster.”

“Thanks,” Bruce said weakly.

“Doctor Banner is here to track the cube,” the man in the eyepatch, who Illayana assumed must be Fury, told Stark, striding towards the table.  It was very dramatic, with his cape billowing out behind him.  But Illayana was somewhat reminded of Snape from _Harry Potter_.  “I was hoping you might join him and his . . . assistant.”  She started, bristling a bit at the way he said _assistant._ She was a mythology professor, for goodness sake!  It wasn’t her fault she was dragged into this!

                She felt a little guilty thinking that, because at least she got to see Bruce again.  Maybe this time, she’d even get to say goodbye.

                _No,_ she thought firmly, shaking herself.  _Stop.  Get back to the present._

"I'd start with that stick of his," Captain America was suggesting. "It may be magical, but it works an awful lot like a Hydra weapon."

                “I don’t know about that, but it is powered by the Cube,” Fury agreed.  “I’d like to know how Loki turned two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys.”

                Illayana stifled a snort, but Thor furrowed his brow.  “Monkeys?” he repeated.  “I do not understand—“

                “I do!” the Captain jumped in eagerly.  He flushed when everyone turned to him, stammering embarrassedly.  “I – I understood that reference.”

                “What _I’d_ like to know,” Illayana said, inadvertently saving the Captain from further discomfort, “is how I drew _that_ , before I even _saw_ the guy.  And when I have _no_ artistic ability to _speak of_.”  She gestured to the picture on the table, taking care not to touch it.

 Captain America, however, had no qualms about picking it up.  He inspected it, and said, “It’s a perfect likeness . . . and you said you’d never seen him before?”

“I couldn’t control my hand,” she confessed.  “It was scary.  And then just as I finished, he walked by with the guards.”  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the tenseness in Bruce’s posture.  He was angry, angry that Loki had done something to her, whatever it was.  She was the only person on this aircraft that had no real reason to be here; yet she was, because of him.  If anything happened to her, she feared Bruce wouldn’t be able to control himself from the guilt and rage.

She knew what he was like.

Fury frowned and looked expectantly at Thor.  “I have no answer,” Thor said apologetically.  “I have no understanding of my brother’s magic.  I was never one for it myself.”

The frown deepened, and he took the picture from Captain America and handed it back to Bruce.  “See if there’s any energy readings on it.  This is not our main concern at the moment though, so get back to work.”  With that, Fury turned and walked over to the brunette and Phil.  Illayana rose from her chair and followed Bruce and Tony as they headed back to the lab.

Tony turned to her with a smirk as soon as they got into the now-familiar white room.  “And what might be the name of Doctor Banner’s pretty assistant?” he asked casually.

Illayana ducked her head.  “’m not actually his assistant,” she said.  “Don’t really know anything about science.”

“Professor Illayana Robinson, she teaches mythology and its impact on society at her local college,” Bruce introduced her with amusement.  She waved shyly.

“Tony Stark,” he said.  “But I’m sure you already knew that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, this one's late. Sorry!


	6. Offers, Arguments, and Tony's Pep Talk

Illayana watched as Bruce and Tony worked on finding both information about the scepter and the Cube. The picture was left on the backburner, and that was okay with her. “The Gamma rays are definitely consistent with Selvig’s report on the Tesseract,” Bruce commented. "But it's going to take weeks to process."

Tony opened up a suitcase with a lot more flashy tech, and the few weeks they would need condensed into what Illayana estimated would be a number of hours. “And all I packed was a toothbrush,” he dryly, to which she smiled softly, not noticing the look Tony gave her as he laughed.

“You know, you should come by Stark Tower sometime. The top ten floors are all R and D. You'd love it. It's candy land,” he offered. Illayana smiled wider, nudging Bruce encouragingly.  
He ignored it. “Thanks, but I’ll pass. The last time I was in New York, I sort of . . . broke . . . Harlem.”

“Well,” Tony said, waving some sort of stick he’d picked up while he was talking about his tower, “I promise a stress-free environment. No surprises.” Then he shocked Bruce with the stick (which must have been some kind of electric rod) and stared expectantly into his eyes.

Bruce yelped, and Illayana opened her mouth to object to that when a “Hey!” came from the doorway. It was Captain America. (She really needed to find out his real name eventually, it was strange calling a real live person that, even if it was in her head.)

“Nothing?” asked Tony, ignoring the Captain. That struck Illayana as a little off. Almost everyone of a certain age down had grown up with Captain America as their hero, Tony’s age included. Why would anyone ignore their childhood hero come alive?

“Are you nuts?” questioned the uniformed man, marching inside.

"Jury's still out," said Tony, to which Illayana snickered, barely sparing him a glance before turning back to Bruce. "You really have a lid on it, don't you? What is it? Mellow jazz? Bongo-drums? Huge bag of weed?"  
“Is everything a joke to you?”

“Funny things are,” Tony answered.

Captain America glared at the billionaire. "Threatening the safety of everyone on this ship isn't funny. No offence, doc." The last part was said to Bruce. Illayana would be offended on his behalf if she didn’t know that it was somewhat true. However, she also knew how to calm the big green guy. He had a penchant for songs and fairytales.

“No, it’s alright,” Bruce said. “I wouldn’t have come if I couldn’t handle . . . pointy things.”

“You’re tiptoeing, big man,” Tony observed, pulling out a bag of blueberries. “You need to strut.”

"And you need to focus on the problem, Mr. Stark," cut in the Captain, a frown marring his handsome face. Illayana had to admit that all the men in the room were good-looking. This wasn’t the time to think about that, though.

“You think I’m not?” Tony laughed. “Why did Fury call us in? Why now? Why not before? What isn't he telling us? I can't do the equation until I have all the variables."

“You think Fury’s hiding something?” the Captain asked, his brows furrowed.

“Fury’s a spy. Captain, he’s the spy. His secrets have secrets.” Tony popped a few blueberries into his mouth and continued, gesturing to Bruce, “It’s bugging him too, isn’t it?”

“Uh,” said Bruce. He shook his head, waved his arms. “I just want to finish my work…”

“Doctor?” the Captain said.

"A warm light for all mankind. Loki's jab at Fury about the cube…"

Captain America nodded his head. "I heard it."

“Well, I think that was meant for you,” Bruce went on, turning to Tony. Tony thrust out his hand, offering some blueberries like a reward. Bruce hesitated, but went ahead and fished some out. He didn’t offer any to Illayana, but it was just as well; she couldn’t stand blueberries.

"Even if Barton didn't tell him, it was still all over the news."

“Stark Tower? That big ugly—“

As Tony turned to look at him, eyes narrowed, Captain America paused.

“—building in New York?” he finished.

"It's powered by an Arc reactor," explained Bruce, placing a blueberry in his mouth. "A self-sustaining energy source. That building will run itself for, what, a year?"

"It's just the prototype," dismissed Tony. "I'm kind of the only name in clean energy right now. It's what he's getting at."

"So,” Illayana surmised, surprising both the men in the room and herself, “why didn't SHIELD bring him in on the Tesseract project? What are they doing in the energy business in the first place?"

“Give the girl a prize!” Tony joked, patting her shoulder and pulling a device out of his pocket. “I should probably look into that once my decryption program finishes breaking in to all of SHIELD's secure files."

Captain America’s head shot around to face Tony. "I'm sorry, did you just say—“

"JARVIS has been running it since I hit the bridge,” Tony interrupted. “In a few hours, I'll know every dirty secret SHIELD has ever tried to hide."

“So I’m not paranoid!” Illayana exclaimed, then flushed. “I-I mean, I thought I saw you stick something down there.”

“And yet you’re confused about why they didn’t want you around,” the Captain deadpanned.

Tony rolled his eyes. “An intelligence organization that fears intelligence? Historically, not awesome.”

"I think Loki is trying to wind us up," the Captain said after a pause. "This is a man who means to start a war and if we don't stay focused, he'll succeed. We have orders. We should follow them.”

“Following is not really my style.”

The Captain’s features twisted and he laughed, bitterly. “And you’re all about style, aren’t you?”

Tony pretended to think, then "Of the people in this room," he began, "which one is a) wearing a spangly outfit, and b) not of use?"

The two stared each other down. “Steve,” Bruce sighed (aha! So his name is Steve!), “tell me none of this smells a little funky to you.”

Steve (wow that was weird) looked between all three of them. Illayana put her hands up and said, “I’m not entirely up to trusting a weird government organization I didn’t know of until this morning, when I woke up here, so, ya know.”

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose to keep calm, like he always did, and Tony and Steve gaped at her. After a moment, Steve turned on his heel. “Just find the damn cube,” he muttered as he left.

“That’s the guy my dad never shut up about?” asked Tony, wandering over to do something on one of the displays. “I’m wondering if they shouldn’t have kept him on ice.”

“Rude,” Illayana scolded.

“He’s not wrong about Loki. He does have the jump on us.”

Illayana had to agree with that. Not just because Loki gave her the creeps either. He was the trickster god, silver-tongued and often ruthlessly cruel. One step ahead. Tony didn’t quite disagree, but he did insist that Loki would be defeated.

“I’ll read all about it.”

“Or you’ll be suiting up with the rest of us,” Tony said. “Minus you, sugarcube.”

Illayana snorted. “Sugarcube?” He shrugged.

“No, you see, I don't get a suit of armor. I'm exposed,” Bruce explained darkly. “Like a nerve. It’s a nightmare.”

Illayana reached out and slipped her hand into his, attempting to comfort him as Tony began talking.

“You know, I've got a cluster of shrapnel trying every second to crawl its way into my heart." He tapped the just barely visible circle of light on his chest, “This stops it. This little circle of light is part of me now. It's not just armor. It's a," he paused to find right words, "terrible privilege."

“But you can control it,” said Bruce miserably.

“Because I learnt how.”

Bruce shook his head, lifting his hand to change the equations on the screen in front of him, and Illayana tightened her hold on his other hand. “It’s different.”

"Hey," Tony said sharply. He pushed the windows on the screen away so they just became icons on the side. They stared at each other through the incandescent green. "I read all about your accident. That much Gamma radiation should have killed you.”

"So you're saying that the Hulk, the . . . other guy, saved my life?" He laughed derisively. "That's nice. That's a nice sentiment. I'll save it for . . . what?"

Tony’s eyes flickered from his face to Illayana’s, to their linked hands, and back to him. “I guess we’ll find out.”

Illayana let go.


End file.
